


Tortured Soul

by eyerite



Series: Snapetober 2020 [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Snapetober 2020, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture, but be warned nonetheless, is teen and up appropriate? idk man, it's not too graphic, suicidal ideation kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:02:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26784115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyerite/pseuds/eyerite
Summary: Another terrible night. Another horrendous spectacle. Severus cannot stop the dark thoughts encroaching on his mind.
Series: Snapetober 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952878
Kudos: 13





	Tortured Soul

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there!
> 
> This one is a bit more serious than the other two, which is good, because that's what I was hoping for.  
> Also I honestly have no idea what I'm doing, I barely check or edit these because if I do there is a 100% chance they will not be uploaded. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Severus closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he approached Malfoy Manor and heard the pained shrieks coming from within. 

He knew all too well that these gatherings often included torture, either of Death Eaters or Muggles. He only hoped that he could remain on the sidelines this night, and slip out after as short a time as possible. It was always difficult to stand idly by as his fellow Death Eaters gleefully hurled hexes, curses, and Unforgivables at the innocents captured specifically for that purpose.

Occasionally, Severus managed to secretly get one or two captives to safety before they could be subjected to these  _ revels _ , but most of the time it was impossible for him to help them without blowing his cover. And no matter how much he disliked watching people suffer for the “Greater Good”, he agreed with Dumbledore that his work as a spy would save many more people eventually than he could help right now. 

That didn’t make evenings like this one easier to get through, though.

The screams died down as he entered the Manor. He could hear conversation and laughter drifting from a room to his left, so he took a moment to gather himself and then discreetly slipped into the large room.

His fellow Death Eaters were scattered around the space, drinking Elf-made wine and firewhisky and making conversation as the Dark Lord himself overlooked the room from a makeshift throne at the far end. The lull in tortured screams seemed due to the victim having lost consciousness. Severus looked at the man on the floor briefly, quickly moving his eyes away before he inadvertently reacted suspiciously. It wouldn’t do to forget where he was.

Severus moved around the room for a while, briefly talking with a few of the least intolerable people in attendance to keep up appearances. When the Muggle on the floor groaned and began moving again, Severus stepped back as far as he reasonably could. A few of the other Death Eaters eagerly stepped forward, wands at the ready. The rest formed a larger circle, still chatting amongst themselves as the torture recommenced.

Severus wanted nothing more than to avert his eyes, leave the room, step in. Anything but stand there and watch seemingly impassively as the man’s body contorted grotesquely at the unbearable agony of the cruciatus curse. He wanted to close his eyes, selfishly find relief from the horrifying sight for just a second. Instead, he kept his eyes firmly trained on the Muggle’s writhing form, watching as the man desperately tried to get away from the pain. His mind would snap soon, and after that happened the Dark Lord and his minions would soon tire of him. 

Severus wondered if the man would have found any solace in that fact, had he known. Perhaps he would have reached for death with both hands and open eyes. Severus would never know how this man saw life and death, only that he himself would have given anything to die during the long hours he’d been tortured on and off for displeasing the Dark Lord.

He remembered the feeling all too well, and he knew there was a large likelihood of experiencing it again in the future. He might have avoided angering the Dark Lord lately, but no one could do so indefinitely. It’d be his turn again soon.

Until then, however, he’d stand on the sidelines, watching his so-called comrades torture an innocent to death, just because they could.

He was as guilty as they were. Doing nothing in the face of this was as bad as actively participating, and even though he had his reasons, those reasons did nothing to lighten the pain those poor Muggles felt. They did nothing to assuage his own guilt.

Some days Severus thought he’d take all the torture inflicted on undeserving victims himself, if it meant they didn’t have to suffer.

Other days - when the memory of the indescribable pain was fresh in his mind - he wasn’t certain he’d be strong enough to sacrifice himself like that, even if he had the option.

Even so, it made no difference. In the end, innocents were being tortured and killed, and he had to stand idly by, witnessing these atrocities in the hope of putting an end to them one day.

If Dumbledore didn’t need him to help bring the Dark Lord down, Severus might have killed himself already. It was torture to live without wanting to, to watch innocents tormented without stepping in, to feel the searing pain through his own flesh whenever he was unlucky enough to displease the Dark Lord.

For a second, Severus wished he could trade places with the man writhing on the floor; be tortured now, but be released from it in a few hours. To spare the man on the floor this pain, and to grant himself relief from all the pain still to come.

It was a selfish thought, born from bitterness and sadness and guilt.  _ Maybe if he hadn’t been born _ , it said,  _ none of this would have happened _ .  _ Maybe if he died, all would be well _ .

These thoughts were empty distractions, of course. He knew that. His death wouldn’t stop the Dark Lord, and he couldn’t trade places with this man who was destined to die that night, no matter how much he wanted to. 

It wasn’t Severus’ time. Not yet. And when his time would inevitably arrive, all he had to hope for, was to have fulfilled his purpose. 

The Muggle’s nearly inhuman howls of pain began to die down, and Severus watched as the Dark Lord rose from his seat and raised his wand.

The green flash filled the room, and Severus watched the man go limp with a mixture of envy and sorrow.

One day - for better or worse - he would abandon this life. One day, but not yet.


End file.
